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| | Newest Major Reviews: | . | | This Week's Most Popular Reviews: | | Best-Selling Albums: | ||
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1. The Dark Knight 2. Star Wars: The Clone Wars 3. Hancock 4. Hellboy II: The Golden Army 5. WALL·E | . | . |
1. Gladiator 2. Moulin Rouge 3. Titanic 4. Star Wars: A New Hope 5. Schindler's List |
6. Batman 7. Edward Scissorhands 8. POTC: Curse of the Black Pearl 9. Braveheart 10. Batman Begins | . | . |
1. Indiana Jones: Crystal Skull 2. The Incredible Hulk (2008) 3. Varèse Sarabande 30th 4. Last of the Mohicans 5. The Prince of Egypt |
| Month of October, 2000 |
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Now, nobody doubts that this is a remarkable score. Trevor Jones' title theme is one of the best of the decade, and the fact that a double-composer score worked at all for this film is a miracle. The album remains near the top of the sales charts eight years later and alone makes Jones and Edelman enough money to keep them wealthier than 95% of the rest of Hollywood. But does it deserve such a top ranking? No, and here are a few reasons why: first, aside from Jones' theme and (second) elk hunt track, the score alternates between average and bizarre, with little sense of the period in which the film is set. Second, Edelman's music is simply not compatible with Jones' material --it's like listening to different scores. Finally, much of those sales are driven by the short Clannad song (featured prominently in the film) at the end of the album, not the score.
Before you start foaming at the mouth because Braveheart made this
list, let me say that Braveheart is better than the previous pick,
Last of the Mohicans, and remains an Academy-Award caliber score.
If you look at sales, attention, and feedback surrounding
Braveheart, you'll quickly see that it is popularly one of
the top scores of the 1990s. But like a few choices that will appear later
on this list, I believe that Braveheart is overrated simply because
of other, superior efforts by the same composer during the twelve months
in which this score was produced. In the case of James Horner, both
Apollo 13 and Legends of the Fall were composed within the
years on either side of Braveheart, and both of these other two
scores have finer detail work than Braveheart (you've got to be a
serious Horner fan and have a little knowledge of the musical language to
notice these points; read their individual reviews for examples). The
Braveheart score is also elevated because of the film's immense
popularity. The fact remains that Horner has done even better work for
films that don't have as much of a cult following.
I recently had the choice of acquiring either the complete score to
Starship Troopers or the complete score to Independence Day,
and I decided on ID4 in half a second. Yes, the Varese Sarabande
release of Starship Troopers was too short, but I can't understand
why so many people are up in arms about this one. I watched the film,
twice, and both times I heard a functional, yet uninteresting score.
Poledouris has created some masterpieces in his career, works that excel
in complexity of theme and style. Starship Troopers is not an
example of this type of score; its theme (and I maintain this from my
review, even though I've received death threats over it) is simplistic and
sounds like it was slapped together in a matter of minutes --we know that
good composers can do this-- and the "patriotic" wartime/alien brass might
have improved in their electricity if Poledouris had taken ID4 as
an example from the previous year. Starship Troopers is an average
score. It's sometimes a good score. But it doesn't deserve all this mass
excitement over an expanded release. The song by Poledouris' daughter,
bless her heart, is simply not listenable.
When debating about the merit of music being produced by Hans Zimmer and
the composers operating under him at his Media Ventures empire, it is
absolutely necessary to separate Zimmer from the rest. I greatly admire
Zimmer's diverse talents, and I maintain that too many people lump him in
with his students (Glennie-Smith, Powell, Gregson-Williams, etc...) as a
person who only creates noisy electronic garble for modern action films.
In the case of The Rock, Zimmer wrote the title theme and the rest
was the responsibility of his associates. Hot off the rousing theme for
Crimson Tide in 1995, there was nothing that could have been more
satisfying in the summer of 1996 than to hear Zimmer's title theme in the
rainy cemetery scene at the start of The Rock. Unfortunately, the
score dives into the pit of electronic guitar dispair from then on. The
wailing guitars that you heard ruin the chase sequences of that film began
a whole series of similar, unlistenable scores (Con Air, Enemy
of the State, etc...). I put the blame on The Rock for all
those subsequent, substandard Media Ventures action scores. Even though
Zimmer invented many of the basic electronic samples we hear in those
action messes, he used them with a controlled touch (Lion King,
Crimson Tide, etc...) and refrained from inserting the pounding of
modern rock within them. It is the score for The Rock, therefore,
that began all this nonsense, and I think less and less of it every time I
listen to its contents after the first three minutes.
Nothing more needs to be said about the popularity of this score. The
album and film have sold well, leading to a sequel and an isolated score
on the film's DVD that caused Goldsmith fans to go wild with excitement.
Why? I have no clue. There are two one-minute cues in the first and last
tracks of the album which deserve a compilation release (which has, to an
extent, already happened on a couple of labels). But the rest of The
Mummy's mass of music is noisy, incoherent, and simply not
top-of-the-line Goldsmith. Given the sheer number of projects that
Goldsmith tackles in any given year (a number which exceeds most other
major composers), a three-star effort like The Mummy is no big
deal. But the tragic circumstance with The Mummy is the fact that
Goldsmith composed an outstanding, coherent, fully orchestral action/drama
score just a few months later: The 13th Warrior. With layers upon
layers of thematic complexity and sound quality that blows you out of your
seat, The 13th Warrior is no doubt a superior score to The
Mummy, and deserves all of attention that the latter score is
currently stealing from it.
I had the misfortune of actually witnessing this film for the first time
this past month, and I cannot express to you the extent of my displeasure
with incoherency of the film and its score. It was one of those films
which might have been marginally enjoyable if it had been scored well, but
Danny Elfman failed to produce the caliber of music that his fans had come
to expect from him. The garbled electronic mess of a score that resulted
marked a larger skid in the quality of Elfman's music at the time. From
the magnificent orchestral scores of the early 90s, Elfman began creating
more of a fringe and wacky sound for his scores, ultimately finishing the
90s with a sort minimalist style. Being an enormous fan of Elfman's early
90s style, I blame Mission: Impossible for this transformation, for
the sole reason that it was the first mega-blockbuster that Elfman failed
to score very well (and at the time, if you remember, he seemed misplaced
in the assignment). Almost as a tease to loyal Elfman fans, he throws the
"Betrayal" track into the score --a track easily more poignant than any
other, and a track which stood out like a sore thumb in the film because
of its obvious shift in quality. The entire year of 1996 marked a
frightfully strange and incoherent turn for Elfman and his music, and
Mission: Impossible represented the point in time where Elfman
began disappointing many of his existing fans and attracting those of a
whole other interest.
I am constantly amazed by the number of people who praise this score for
its superior listenability, and I get the impression that there are others
out there who quietly consider it a "guilty pleasure." Guilty, in this
case, is the right word. I've read and heard about numerous accounts over
the years by people who place Patriot Games alongside
Thunderheart as a great escape of ambience for a rainy afternoon.
Although the two scores share electronic and rhythmic elements, there is
simply no way to equate Patriot Games with Thunderheart. The
latter is not only a brilliant score in the film, but also a fascinating
case study in a low-budget effort that's actually interesting to listen
to. Patriot Games, on the other hand, is a score and album
dominated by its Clannad song --a song which should have served as a great
template for Horner to follow as he was scoring the film. Instead, he
over-emphasizes the ethnicity of the terrorists and completely disregards
any kind of thematic development for the expanding role of Jack Ryan and
his family. Patriot Games stands as not only a disappointing and
boring album, but also as one of the greatest missed opportunities for a
great 1990s score. After all, it's not everyday that a Clancy/Ryan film
comes around, and low budget or not, we deserved something better than a
Red Heat style of mush.
When Michael Shaara sat down and wrote the painstakingly realistic
accounts of Union and Confederate officers for the book (The Killer
Angels) that would eventually be translated onto the screen as
Gettysburg, I am absolutely, 100% sure that he didn't have Randy
Edelman anywhere in is mind. Granted, the budget of the film restricted
the level of quality that could be obtained for its music, but Edelman was
the wrong man for the job. Edelman's synthetic score for this film not
only sounds false in the film, but it is simply inappropriate for the
subject. While a score like Glory, which perfectly evoked the
spirit of the Civil War, was untenable for this project, I often wonder
what an artist like Mark McKenzie could have done with the film instead.
As it stands, Edelman's phony, simplistic music is a darling of the film
music community --for reasons I will never understand-- and has even
experienced a "sequel" album release. The dull, electronic sound produced
by Edelman was whimsical enough for a fantasy film like
Dragonheart, powerful enough for Daylight, and funny enough
for Kindergarten Cop, but it is not serious enough for
Gettysburg. As someone who loves the book so much, I am too
embarassed to review the score for Filmtracks because of its total lack of
authenticity and historical consideration. Pickett's Charge wasn't the
only blunder in this film...
So much promise, so little result. The original Batman score and
film tore through the world with astounding financial, popular, and
critical success, and the formula was seemingly set for a series of
highly-anticipated sequels. And yet, even with Burton behind the camera,
Keaton in front of it, and Elfman's score over the speakers, both the
Batman Returns score and film were monumental critical and popular
flops. Elfman abandoned the classical, orchestral construction of the
original film's score and chose a less serious, gloomy, and spiritual
style, which deflated the previously established Gotham City. Composing
cartoonish themes and then suggesting them in a neo-classically dramatic
fashion, his score suffers from a personality crisis (which may work for
Catwoman, but not for the entire musical underscore). Even with all of its
shortcomings, however, the score could have been salvaged if not for its
poor recording quality. Unlike the original Batman, the timpani do
not resound, the bells are distant, the gong does not impress, and the
brass are completely flat. To compensate, Elfman employs the lighter
chorus, a heavier organ, and a different array of drums to spice up the
mix. It doesn't work. There is simply no substitute for power, and the
musicians of Batman Returns cannot compete with a superior singing
and playing force. This score remains as one of the most disappointing
sequel scores of all time, and die-hard Batman and Elfman fans who
exalt it need to do a serious comparison between it and the original.
It is not too often that a talented, upstart composer gets a mainstream
break on the magnitude of The Matrix; many promising composers
never get the opportunity to score such an enormous cult hit, but Don
Davis found himself in exactly that position. While enjoying the premise
of the film, I continue to believe that its score and musical supervision
(songs) were not a quarter of the success they could have been. This
underachievement especially applies to Don Davis' score, which makes use
of a brilliant echoing of brass from side to side, marking the confusion
about reality in the film. Unfortunately, from there, Davis wastes an
opportunity to write a blockbuster sonic marvel. I'm not talking about
another Warriors of Virtue style of orchestral and choral mass in
theme, but instead I use the film's trailer as evidence. Even a year after
the film's release, the new age group Enigma's sequence of "Eyes of the
Truth" is still being used for promotional purposes, often bypassing
Davis' original music. The use of Enigma in the trailers was so
overwhelmingly effective that Davis would have been well advised to take a
page out of the Vangelis Bladerunner book and produce an similarly
alienating, electronic and choral score for The Matrix. With its
futuristic setting, fantastic story, and warped sense of reality, the film
was begging for a more ambitious, eloquent, and free-flowing score. Even
the romantic undertones of the fateful destiny of Neo and Trinity were
treated with the same atonal negligence. In no way was Davis' score
totally inappropriate for the film --it worked adequately-- but he
could have done so much more of interest, even on a subtle level, that
The Matrix's score remains a squandered opportunity of lessons
unlearned. In light of this blunder, the masses of people who have adopted
Davis' work for The Matrix as the king of the postmodern era need
to take a listen to those original trailers and reconsider the
opportunities missed.